She Swallowed Her Address Book to Save Her Clients From the Nazis

Rock crystal was “cheap” — until she got her hands on it.

MY DISCREET SALON above Bernard Herz’s gemstone office on rue de Châteaudun became Paris’s worst-kept secret in the 1930s, drawing the Duchess of Windsor and Elsa Schiaparelli up the stairs for designs unlike anything else in Place Vendôme. Chalcedony wasn’t considered precious? I carved it into sculptural cuffs. Rock crystal was cheap? I shaped it into pieces that made diamonds look ordinary.

When the Nazis arrested my partner Herz in 1942 for being Jewish, I had already taken control of the business to ensure its survival. Then they came for me too. During my transfer to Gestapo headquarters, I swallowed every page of my address book, one by one. Herz was deported to Auschwitz and never returned. I stayed in Paris through the Occupation, kept designing, and later partnered with his son Jean.

And when asked to sign my work, I responded “My style is my signature.”

Decades later, Karl Lagerfeld amassed a collection of my pieces. Sotheby’s now holds dedicated auctions in my name. My unsigned work regularly sells for more than signed pieces by others. It seems I was right about that signature.

Who am I?

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